Bones and Scars

Bones and scars

that's what I know.

Bones and scars are my life

and I hold them dearly so.

Naked body,

my name body stares back at me.

Ribs protrude out

as I fill my lungs with air.

How much longer

before they fly off my chest?

Each sharp point

becomes my success.

Back myself to the wall

only to feel pain,

as my should blade rubs,

rubs against the cold, hard surface.

Little cuts on my back

start to bleed,

as if monsoon season had started.

Before I know it,

the little lines are over

slowly all drip like a broken faucet.

Bleeding out my pain

so when I'm left,

I'm left with what I know,

Bones and scars.